Strange
by GlassAngel
Summary: Daine's crying, and Numair needs to make her feel better so the animals quiet down. One of the palace cooks doesn't know what's coming to him. Rated T for a suggestion for a creative use of the Gift.


**Disclaimer: Everything in the land of Tortall belongs to the wonderful Tammy Pierce. I just obsess over her books.**

**Here goes...first Immortals fic posted so far. I'm excited.**

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Numair knew something was wrong when the birds started flying in circles. Swarms of them, hawks and starlings and cranes and swallows, began flying as one screeching mass above the stables. When Numair opened up a speaking spell with Alanna down there, he heard Stefan and Onua in the background, trying and failing to calm the horses.

Not for the first time, he wished he could talk to Spots, just to find out where Daine was. She must have been terribly upset, to let her magic leak out of her and affect every animal within miles.

In the forest, wolves began howling, and the stray dogs of the Lower City joined their call. Once a piercing trill reached his ears, Numair ran to Kitten, who was curled into a keening ball on his bed.

"Hush, baby girl," he reprimanded gently, though in truth he felt as worried as she did. "Where's Daine, Kit?"

Slit-pupiled eyes stared at him for a moment as the baby dragon decided whether to trust the Storkman with the precious information. Finally, she let out a series of click and whistles, telling Numair to look in the far paddock.

"Thanks, Kit," Numair said, shaping his Gift into a small ball and making it hover in front of her. Kitten chirped at it, sending a ripple of pure silver fire over its surface. She cooed and poked at it with one outstretched claw as the mage took off at a jog for the paddock.

He found Daine crying under a tree in the paddock, surrounded by a crowd of Rider ponies milling about. As Numair approached, they became even more uneasy, and one bay stallion flattened his ears and snapped at Numair when he tried to step through to Daine.

"Daine, can I get through?" he called, holding his hands up as a peace offering to the stallion.

Numair felt the magic cut through the herd, asking them to step away. Once they did, he went over and sat down next to Daine, wrapping both arms around her in a tight hug. "What's wrong, magelet?"

Daine shook her head as she clung to him. "You wouldn't understand," she said, voice hoarse from so much crying.

"Probably not. I can try, though."

Daine sighed and moved so she could rest her head on Numair's shoulder. "You know that boy training to be a cook, Harne? I've been seeing him for a few weeks, off and on. It's nothing much, mostly casual."

"I thought you were seeing that clerk Perin." Numair fought to keep his voice under control. His student didn't need to know his admitted annoyance towards her swains was as much due to jealousy as her occasional lateness to lessons.

"Well, yes, but he's been sweet on another girl recently, so I haven't seen him in a while," Daine confessed. "But me'n Harne were in the gardens and this jay came to me because someone hit him with a stone and hurt his wing."

"You healed him, I presume?" Numair had a nasty feeling growing in his stomach about what Harne had said.

She nodded. "It was easy—he hadn't any broken bones, just sore muscle. Only took me a minute and he was on his way, but Harne looked like the poor jay was a Stormwing come to eat him. He said—" Daine's voice broke, but she bravely kept going— "he said I acted unnatural, always talking to animals when other folk couldn't hear 'em, and what boy wants to be second to a bird? He told me I'm strange and everyone who sees me knows it.

"I know things like that shouldn't bother me, but it just sounded so much like what Hakkon said. It reminded me of what happened in Snowsdale, and—it hurt." Now Daine was crying again, tears slowly winding down her face.

"Shh, magelet, it's alright," Numair whispered, holding her even closer. Inside, he felt cold anger bubbling away, but he could save that for later. Daine needed comfort right now.

"He's right, though, isn't he?" Daine asked in a small voice, sniffling.

Numair sighed, pulling away so he could frame her face in his hands. Looking her straight in the eye, he told her, "No. It's true that your wild magic is unusual due to its rarity, but it's not strange in the least. How could it be, when you've saved so many lives with it? Besides," he added, quirking a smile, "the word 'strange' has many negative connotations not associated with 'unusual'. I'd give you a lecture on the semantics behind it, but I doubt you're much in the mood for it."

Daine laughed weakly. "No, not exactly."

"I thought not. And might I remind you that Tortall is a kingdom full of people with unusual abilities? You, Onua, and Stefan have your wild magic, and Alanna and I have prodigious amounts of the Gift. Then there's Jon, the king with possession of the Dominion Jewel, and his queen, who encourages women to join her Riders, and—"

"Numair."

"Yes, sweetling?"

"You're making lists again."

He winced. "And for that I apologize. In any case, you understand my point."

"Yes, I do. Though I suppose I should go deal with Harne now…I doubt he'll listen."

"Would you like me to castrate him?" Numair offered. "I've heard it's quite easy with the correct application of the Gift, and I know gelding does wonders for horses. Take Spots, for instance. He's so docile he'll tolerate anything, isn't he?"

"Numair, I'm serious," Daine said, laughing. "I need to go tell him off."

"As am I," Numair informed her, still keeping a straight face.

"How about this," Daine said with a bright smile. "You come with me when I go yell at Harne, and if he tries anything you can get creative with the magic."

"That sounds like a good compromise." Numair stood, brushed the grass off the seat of his breeches, and helped Daine stand.

As they walked back to the castle, the horses quieted under the hostlers' hands and the birds returned to their roosts in the forest.

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**Aww. Numair-hugs solve all problems. :D Thanks for reading!**

**~ange**


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